


Like Dreaming of Angels

by fiveyaaas



Series: because you’ll listen [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Light Angst, Mild Gore, Nurse Vanya Hargreeves, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pre-Canon, might be continued if anybody wants it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29553144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveyaaas/pseuds/fiveyaaas
Summary: Vanya was determined to believe that he was alive somewhere, and she refused to stop entertaining these thoughts, preparing herself for the day hewouldcome home.She had no idea, of course, that she would trip over his barely conscious body the second she reached her apartment.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Series: because you’ll listen [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2122461
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Like Dreaming of Angels

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jules5971](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jules5971/gifts).



> Prompt: _” Vanya as a nurse that takes care of Old Man Five after he’s been lightly injured while he’s in the Commission?”_
> 
> Okay, so I just realized the “lightly” in here, but.... hopefully this turned out well. 😭 
> 
> Warning for blood/injury/mild gore. It doesn’t go into detail, but I want to make sure that nobody gets upset reading it!

After working a twelve, she barely had the energy to walk home, ultimately deciding to do so when she remembered the bus wouldn’t stop by the hospital for nearly an hour. Her gray scrubs had some mystery substance on them, which she imagined was concerning to anybody passing by in their cars. She figured it was better that _she_ looked like the threat than somebody trying to hurt her, wearily glancing at every man that she passed, aware of all the creeps that were around these parts, having taken care of their victims afterwards. 

Clutching her pepper spray to her chest, she wondered what Five would think of her walking alone at night after a shift. She did this frequently, imagining how he would react to all of the things she regularly did. Vanya was determined to believe that he was alive somewhere, and she refused to stop entertaining these thoughts, preparing herself for the day he _would_ come home. 

She had no idea, of course, that she would trip over his barely conscious body the second that she reached her apartment. That instead of a significant look, a hug, or even a kiss when she finally saw him again for the first time in fifteen years, she would pepper spray his eyes. Or that she’d quickly realize his body was slumped over because he’d experienced some sort of mauling. 

“Jesus fucking _Christ,_ Vanya,” the old man groaned. “If I’d known you’d do that when you saw me I’d have gone to somebody else.”

From the dimple in his cheek, the familiarity of his voice, the shape of his brows, she might have been able to figure it out. However, she _truly_ realized that it was Five because he rolled down his sleeve, whimpering in pain as he did, exposing his tattoo. 

_“Five?”_

“You still know how to do stitches, dear?” 

* * *

When she dragged him into her apartment, muttering curses, certain that if the mauling didn’t kill Five then she would, he woozily asked, “Why are you so mad at me?”

“Because you’re a fucking _moron,_ who is near death and refuses to even go to the emergency room.”

“Can you not understand, _at all,_ why I wouldn’t want to go to a hospital?” Five groaned, falling to her couch heavily. If she wasn’t so concerned that he was going to lose a truly concerning amount of blood, she would have reprimanded him for not letting her lay down a towel first. Whatever. She could flip the cushion. Or make him pay for another couch entirely. It was the least he could do. 

“Show me the injury,” Vanya said. “Unless you’ve been stabbed or impaled and still have a knife or whatever inside of you, in which case, I’m not going to listen to you about not going to the emergency room, and you _will_ listen to me because you left me for seventeen years.”

“No knife,” he grunted, looking so pale that she was certain he would lose consciousness once she started taking care of his wounds. “I pulled that out.”

“You did _what?”_

He opened his eyes enough that she could see the panic within them, like a husband whose wife had just caught him cheating. 

Five’s dumb ass should only _wish_ that’d be the height of his stupidity. 

“I might make you go to the doctor as a punishment,” she snapped. “And if you even _think_ about passing out, you’ll regret it.” 

The tight, forced smile he gave her reminded her of when he’d gotten the umbrella branding on his arm, and she could feel the anger quickly fading, realizing that he was trying to reassure her that he would be fine. Even though he knew that nothing about this was okay, he would do anything to make sure that she didn’t realize how deep of shit they were in. 

Vanya wasn’t the girl that had met his eyes that day anymore, though, and she had a realistic enough outlook on life that she knew that nothing could possibly be okay, for him to have the wounds that he did. For him to be at least twenty years her senior. 

“Lie still,” she commanded, going to work on healing his wounds.

* * *

His injuries weren’t as bad as they looked, just bleeding an unnecessary amount. It was like they were trying to do all they could to garner sympathy for Five, but she couldn’t help but think the shallow gashes covering his body were being a little overdramatic, to save face. 

This was not necessarily her opinion as a nurse, but it was her opinion as someone that was resisting the urge to strangle a 50-something-year-old-man. Her best friend, to his credit, did all that she asked, not even arguing when she told him, holding up gauze in a threatening enough pose, that he was sleeping at her place. 

“I’m going to admit,” he told her, eyes looking significantly less red. She did feel a _little_ badly about pepper spraying him, but then he wouldn’t have had to deal with that if he wasn’t such a _dumbass_ so it was truly _his_ fault. “I didn’t think that our reunion… like _this.”_

“Well, have you considered that maybe you shouldn’t come back to me covered in your own blood?”

Five sighed. “There’s a few things you have to explain.”

“Damn right there are.”

“You know something, Vanya? You being this mad at me is actually really nice to see.”

Though he was leading her into a trap, she wanted to hear him say that she was right to be this mad, so she commanded, “Elaborate.”

A small, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Well, for one thing, I’m glad to see you alive—”

_“What?_ Why would I die?”

All of the lightness left his eyes, and she could feel an abrupt change within him. 

“That’s part of what I have to tell you, V.”

“Do you feel up to talking?” Now that she was aware he wasn’t going to die at all, she couldn’t help but want to actually fuss over him. Or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t hold any smugness in his gaze now, that he just looked like he needed her. 

The anger was quickly fading from her, seeing him look so broken up about anything within his life. 

Five nodded, opening his mouth to speak. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Send in prompts [here.](https://fiveyaaas.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> Let me know in the comments if any of y’all want me to continue this! It would be a short multi-chap, about 5 chapters if I did! 💕


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